Enthalpy
by Rhi Marzano
Summary: Ginny goes for the purely physical... but is that really all she wants? D/G Smut, beware.
1. sizzle

Enthalpy  
Rhi Marzano  
R  
[A/N Warning... this is smut. If you can't handle it, go away! This is the second in what I'm calling the "Merck Sindex" (Ginny stories, all involving different periods of her life and different love interests, and all having different scientific titles, the first being Entropy). I'm really quite sorry for the delay- I've had this finished almost a full month, but I've been waiting for ff.net to stabilize. The downtime really made me realize how much I take this wonderful place for granted.

I don't own the Dido lyrics I use in here, not like you thought I did or anything. For Apopilis, my bestbud since forever, who so kindly betaed... For Jake, who was killed in a car accident July 22nd, 2001, who I will miss; and for Lee, for being a terrific friend, even though I feel guilty for missing her more while she was away at camp than I will Jake.]

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Ginny leaned back in what seemed to be the most comfortable chair in the library. Briefly she pondered why she had never sat in it before, but the third chapter of her book was calling her. It was a perfectly lovely selection suggested in her Muggle studies class, and she was entranced by it.

Her blissful experience, however, was eventually ruined.

"What," snarled a menacing voice, "the devil are you doing in my chair?"

She'd know that voice anywhere.

Annoyed, Ginny memorized the page number and set _Jane Eyre_ down in her lap. "I'm attempting to read, Malfoy," she replied. "And I must have missed your name and crest inscribed in blood on the arm."

Draco Malfoy glared at her. "Everyone knows this is **mine**. I order you to vacate immediately."

She pretended to consider this. "Hmm.... No."

"No?" he repeated. His temper continued to flare. "Listen, Weasley, I eat girls with attitude problems for breakfast."

"No," she retorted, "you _fuck_ girls with attitude problems for breakfast."

"Now, there," he replied thoughtfully, "lot of the same things in eating and fucking. Biting, licking..."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not as if you actually ingest-" She stopped and her cheeks flamed wildly. She coughed and tried to gather her composure. Intelligent comment, reclaim dignity, she chanted in her head. "You can't make me move," she said lamely.

"Can so," he said petulantly. "Move!"

"No." She lifted her book again and pretended to immerse herself in it.

He leaned over and snatched her arms. "No one says no to me. _Especially_ not girls."

His face was mere centimeters from hers, and his body- his body was practically pressing up against her. She swallowed. "My," she got out, somehow managing a lofty tone, "but you're a randy bastard."

He seemed to have no reply for that, but leered suggestively at her.

The librarian came hurtling at them at the speed of light. She stomped to little effect. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley," she began haughtily, "this behavior is entirely inappropriate for a library!"

"I must agree," Ginny said, throwing a pointed look at him.

"I must insist you get off her at once," continued Madam Pince.

"Yeah," Ginny said, measuring out each syllable. "Get. off."

Sulkily he retreated. "My father will hear of this," he threatened.

"Seventh years," sniffed the librarian, "should not be still running to daddy."

Madam Pince, Ginny thought, had uncommon good sense.

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"Heard about the incident in the library," Goyle said in a mocking tone.

"Shove it, _Greggy_," Draco said darkly, not even bothering to open his eyes. At this point he'd retreated to the Slytherin commons and sought solace in another of his favored nesting spots- a large green davenport. Naps, on the whole, made everything better.

"Word is that you were trying to get under Weasley's robes," snickered Crabbe.

_That_ sent him jolting upright. "If I'd wanted under her robes," he informed them, "I'd be there."

"That's not the way I heard it," Goyle said.

Draco folded his arms and sent them both a look of disgust. "She was in my goddamn chair, and I was doing a nice job of overpowering her senses when Pince banished me from the library." His long fingers brushed off a bit of imaginary dust on his dark green collar. "Not like you two have room to talk. Even Pansy won't touch you."

Pansy Parkinson had an established reputation of lack of reservation in such matters.

Crabbe started laughing and pointing at Goyle, but stopped when he realized the insult had been directed at himself as well.

_I really need to get better goons, _he thought deprecatingly._ This day just gets worse and worse. That Weasley brat doesn't know what she's got herself into._

I'll just have to seduce her.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Ginny rose to her tiptoes, slid _Jane Eyre_ back on the shelves and checked her list for the next title. _Mansfield Park_ by... Austen? In despair she directed her gaze up a full two shelves before locating it. Madam Pince would surely have a fit if she summoned it, as she generally wasn't successful at performing spells quietly. She was scanning the lower shelves for appropriate footholds when an arm reached around her and plucked the book out.

"For you," drawled the odious creature, waving the fine literature in front of her face.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking it from him and struggling to restrain her arm from connecting with his face.

"It's good," Draco offered.

"You've read it?" she asked with a suspicious eye. "Who's the main character?"

"Peter?"

"Peter?" she repeated.

"St. Peter, that is," he amended without skipping a beat. "After all, he's in all of us, in a way."

"Didn't know you were religious," she said before she went back to the chair.

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"Bowsprit," Ginny mumbled to the Fat Lady, waited for the painting to move, and skidded in.

She went directly to bed, waving absently to Ron and Hermione on the way. "Hi, Ginny," the prefect and her friend "Letitia" chorused. "Letitia" had decided she was unsatisfied with her birth name during the second term of fifth year, and had changed it almost fortnightly since then. Ginny gave them a sidelong look, but then saw what had them intrigued.

On her bed lay a pair of blood red roses and several sheets of paper.

And she knew, she _knew_ who had sent them.

"What," she asked in a dangerous tone, "are these?"

"Look at it," urged Letitia with a giggle.

She leaned down and picked up the paper. "Poetry," she said in disgust. _What an annoying toad. What does he think he's doing?_

"It's perfectly lovely stuff," sighed the prefect wistfully.

Draco's signature graced approximately half of the last page, effectively confirming her suspicions.

"How did these get here?" she demanded.

"He must have dropped them off," Letitia said, bobbing her head in spasmodic motions.

Ginny ground her teeth. "And how did he get the password?"

The prefect looked guiltily at the hem of her robes.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"It was _romantic_," said the prefect in a small voice. "It wasn't like he was going to do anything wrong."

"He's **Draco Malfoy**, for pungsakes!" Ginny cried, flinging the poetry halfway across the room. "Not an innocent admirer!"

The two other girls gasped.

"I can't believe you just did that," Letitia said with a sniffle. "You're so ungrateful."

They scrambled to recover the unbidden scripts.

"You two are bloody mental," she said in resignation, and pushed the roses off as she crawled into bed.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Hermione and Ginny sat high in the stands of the quidditch pitch. "So?" Hermione asked below the hum of the crowd. "Anything happen since the flowers?"

Ginny looked about nervously, then answered, "Chocolates."

"Chocolates?"

"Everyday, he manages to slip some chocolate into my lunch."

"Are they any good?" 

"Hell if I know," Ginny shrugged. "Chocolate makes me break out something fierce. I feed it to Pig." Then she paused. "Any reason you'd like to know?"

Hermione shook her head. "Reckon he'd be the type to have fancy chocolates."

They sat in silence. A Hufflepuff Chaser was called on blagging, so Ginny rose to get a better look at the bloke. She wasn't quite sure who it was even though his name had been announced three or four times. Her eyes wandered over to a tree at the edge of the pitch, and that's when she saw him.

"He's staring at me," she hissed to Hermione.

"What's that?" said her distracted friend.

"Malfoy is over there," she said impatiently. "Staring at me."

Hermione spotted him after a moment. "Maybe he's not staring at you," she suggested. "Perhaps he's staring at that ominous-looking raincloud."

"This is Britain, for pungsakes," Ginny said, shaking her head. "A raincloud is not so extraordinary that one would stare at it."

"It's not an ordinary raincloud," Hermione pressed on. "It's dark as dickens. Look."

Ginny directed her gaze heavenward. "Alright," she conceded. "Perhaps he could be staring at the raincloud. But in all honesty, do you think he is?"

"Not really," Hermione admitted.

A raindrop plopped inelegantly on Ginny's nose. "I think it might be raining."

"I think you're right," her friend said, as several more droplets hit her hair.

The rain became a steady sprinkle, but quickly progressed to a heavy downpour. A bolt of lightning split the sky in the distance, and thunder cracked a bit later.

The announcers quickly decreed the match cancelled, and the masses began to retreat back to the castle.

But he was still standing there. She could feel his eyes boring into her.

"'Mione," Ginny said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll catch up with you, okay?"

Hermione blinked. "Okay."

Damp hair flounced against her neck as she dashed to confront him. She probably needn't have dashed, since it became apparent that even in the atmospheric deluge he had no intention of moving.

"Why are you stalking me?" she exploded.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Stalking? What would make you think I'm doing that?"

"Maybe because you're following me?"

"If you know I'm following you," he replied easily, "then why did you ask?"

"I didn't ask _if_ you were stalking me, I asked _why_." She shoved him to punctuate her point.

"Maybe I'm just lavishing my attention on you," he suggested with a wink.

"Maybe you're after something," she shot.

"Well, there was never any question of that."

Angry, she shoved him with much more energy than she had before.

It probably wasn't a good idea.

He caught her arms, spun her around and pinned her to the tree with his elbows. "Much better," he said amiably.

She became aware of the fact that she was soaked, and that her clothes were practically plastered to her body. And that his thigh was against hers.

"Holy shit," she began to say, but his mouth covered hers and took full advantage of the opening. His tongue made quick caresses mirroring those of his hands down her breasts, and every contact point felt as if it was on fire.

She brought her hands up to push him away, but betrayed herself when instead they nudged his green robes to the ground. The motion left him in trousers and a fetching polo shirt. His breath quickened in surprise and responded by broadening the strokes of his tongue.

She softened beneath him, twining her arms around his neck and sighing into his breaths. He was everywhere, touching everywhere. Whatever distance had been between them had closed.

With a loud rumble of thunder, he wrenched away. "Not here."

"What?" she said in utter confusion, dropping her arms.

"I'm not doing this outside," he clarified. "Let's go finish this out of the rain."

"I certainly have no intention of doing so!" she said hotly, as if she had been no party to what had just happened.

"Mind seems pretty quick to deny your body."

"As it rightly should. God, I must look a mess."

"A masterfully mussed mess," he agreed with a grin.

"I'll blame it on the rain," she mused.

"Blame it on whatever you want, but it still happened," Draco said, gathering his muddied robe and starting back to the castle.

"It won't happen again, I assure you," she said between clenched teeth.

He shrugged and left her.

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A quick mumble of "dryad-song" and a scoot down the hall saved her from facing the imminently overprotective Ron. She also tried to avoid Hermione, as the girl was apt to leak such things to him.

There was, however, no avoiding Letitia.

"Hi, Ginny!" she exclaimed. "Have you been out in the rain all this time?"

"Obviously," Ginny said dryly.

"Letty, shut it," said a girl grumpily from the other side of the room. Ginny couldn't place which one of the girls was speaking. "We're trying to sleep."

Letitia harrumphed. "How rude. Can't you at least stand for a bit of gossip?"

"In the morning, Letty," yawned another.

"You've been good and thoroughly kissed," Letitia beamed, once again focusing on Ginny.

She froze. "How- er, what on earth gave you that impression?" she said weakly.

"Swollen lips," Letty proclaimed. "And I bet I know who it was."

"And I bet if you tell," Ginny said in lowered tones, "I'll tell a certain someone who's been tampering with his love letters."

"You wouldn't!" she burst.

"She would," assured the sleepy girls.

"Oh, fiddlesticks," Letitia sniffed. "This name hasn't been very lucky at all. I think it's time for a change."

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"Detention again, Gin?" Ron said with disappointment lurking in his eyes. His eyes being a long way up, that was. He'd grown like a weed the past few years. "What'd you do this time?"

"Absolutely nothing," she said vehemently. "I swear, Snape just hates me. I barely walk in the classroom and he wonks up his nose and says, 'Detention, Ms. Weasley.'"

"You must have done something," Hermione said reasonably.

"I didn't even blow anything up," protested Ginny.

"Maybe he's just in a bad mood," Harry offered.

Ginny glared at him. "Yeah? So I'm supposed to be punished for his lack of endorphins?"

"What do you have to do?" Ron asked.

"Probably scrub extra cauldrons and clean the storage room like last time," she sighed. "He told me to meet him in the classroom after dinner."

"Might as well catch some zeds until then," Hermione advised. "You'll probably be working late."

"I am a bit tired," Ginny said wryly. "Don't know why, Letitia wasn't even babbling all night. But a quick kip will be nice." She rested her head on the back of the sofa. "Wake me when it's time to go, eh?"

"You can't mean to sleep here?" Ron questioned.

"Don't see why not," she said with a yawn, and closed her eyes.

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She knocked, peered into the darkened classroom, then knocked again.

"Professor Snape?" she called, brushing the door open to stand in the puddle of darkness. She attempted to make her way through the room, but bumped into something. "Shit," she muttered. "_Lumos._"

A shadow loomed behind the desk.

"Professor?" she said hopefully.

The figure tilted forward into the small spot of light she'd created, crisp white-blonde hair becoming visible.

"Nice to see you made it, Weasley," he smirked. He murmured a similar spell, and the entire room was lit.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she spat. "I'm supposed to be serving my detention."

"Ah, but you are," he grinned. "Just with me."

Ginny was getting an overall bad feeling.

"How many strings did you pull for this?"

"Not too many, actually," he said contemplatively. "Snape owed me a favor or two, so I requested he give you detention, and let me handle it."

"Dare I ask why?"

"Because," he drawled, "we weren't done."

He crossed the room with a sort of smoldering grace that all at once made him sexy and her jealous. She was inordinately clumsy and never made it anywhere without a few scrapes or bruises. She was still brooding over her lack of inner balance when with a definitive clink, he shut the door and turned the lock.

"Was this all a big ploy to get me in your bed?" she asked, drawing upon some forgotten source within for her calm.

He seemed to consider the question, but answered, "Pretty much."

"And if I won't cooperate?"

Draco looked startled, as if the thought had not occurred to him that she wouldn't be willing. "I suppose you could tidy the storage room for four or five hours," he acknowledged, turning his voice silky, "but that's entirely up to you." He bent his head and briefly grazed her lips. "Now then," he said softly, "what's it to be- me, or the bottoms of the spare cauldrons?"

Defiantly she headed for the storage room.

Something inside him broke, and he yanked her back towards him. He gripped her shoulders with great fervor and captured her mouth, relentlessly ravaging. His hands threaded her hair and, staggering, he managed to crush her against the wall. 

He lifted his face off a breathwidth and stared hard into her eyes. "I offer you the choice again."

The distance between them was so slight that she could barely tell that there was any at all. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel his shoulders rising with each ragged breath. Even his gaze seemed to drain her energy. But somewhere, somehow, someplace she found the energy to speak.

"You."

She could scarcely believe that husky tone was her own voice, scarcely believe that she'd said that. Draco, however, wasted no time, and he swiftly began to undress her. Seconds later their clothing pooled at their feet.

His kisses were hot, searing her bare skin, burning every square millimeter of her. Her knees quivered and her arms clasped around his neck. And now, it was infinitely more intimate than before- flesh against flesh.

Desperately he rained his kisses along her collarbone, nudging her thighs apart with one of his. She moaned when he entered. A small expression of surprise flickered across his face when he realized she wasn't a virgin, but it wasn't enough to make him pull out. Instead he slammed into her, over and over, until he poured himself into her.

When he was finally capable of speech, he leaned his head back. "God," he breathed. "Where have you _been_?"

"Not with you, that's for sure," she replied abstractly. It seemed difficult to focus, but she collected her clothing and dressed haphazardly. "This won't happen again."

"Whatever you say," he said, his own efforts to redress going smoother.

"I mean it," she said sternly. "Never again."

He raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say."

She attempted to fix her hair but had little success. Draco rolled his eyes, muttered something about helpless females, and braided it with efficiency. After he had finished, he brought his lips down to her ear, and said lightly, "Next Friday?"

"Definitely," she said without thinking.

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She badgered herself all week about the decision. What had been going through her brain? Nothing, she unhappily concluded. What they had done had totally impaired her judgement. But still, she met him, this time in a secret dungeon that Draco referred to as his "personal sanctuary."

He shut the entrance.

"Listen," she spoke up nervously, "I really don't think I want to-"

She stopped speaking as his breeches hit the floor.

"Shit," she said in admiration, and kissed him.

His eyes gleamed, and the course was irrevocably set.

It was fast and furious. After, she relaxed next to him. A week's worth of need had definitely culminated into a satisfying experience.

"I'm dying to know," Draco said languidly, an arm still draped across her stomach. "Who was your first?"

"Ah," she said, a sheepish look on her face. "Well, it wasn't anything special. It was right after Harry had publicly declared that he had no interest in me whatsoever. I threw myself at Neville Longbottom, and after an embarrassing fumble, we were done and I still wasn't happy. You?"

"Pansy."

No explanation was needed.

"When can we do this again?" he inquired, nipping at her shoulder.

"During the Quidditch game... Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, I'm pretty sure."

"Splendid," he drawled. He continued to nibble down her arm.

"God, you're a lecher," she laughed, pushing him away. "I've got three inches of a scroll left for McGonagall, I don't have time for this."

He folded his arms and pouted.

"Next week," she assured him.


	2. explosion

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Three months of weekly sex, Ginny thought with content, entering the dungeon. The two of them met during every Quidditch game save those when Slytherin played. On those occasions, last weekend being an exemplary example, they found some other time on Saturday. It was a nice arrangement, she felt.

Draco was waiting for her.

"'Lo," he greeted, stretched out on the makeshift bed, feral and quite lusciously nude.

"Hallo, yourself," she said amusedly, discarding her robe and inching towards the edge of the bed.

"Why don't I help you with that?" he impishly asked. He undid her buttons in one fluid motion and dragged her down on top of him.

"Much better," she said with a smile. Her lips met his, and so it began once more. 

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"Hey, do you think something's up with Ginny?" Ron said tentatively.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, she's just acting weird. She used to go to every single Quidditch game there was, not to mention all the practices. And the past three months or so, she's hardly gone to any games."

"She went last week," Hermione said pointedly. "When we played Slytherin."

"True enough," Ron admitted. "But just now when I asked if she wanted to hang out with us at Hogsmeade's- you know, like always- she said no."

"Maybe she's got a boy she fancies," Hermione said. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"Maybe I should go talk to her," Harry said, wiping his glasses off on his robes.

Ron seemed placated with that solution. "Right, right. If there's anything wrong, she'd spill to you."

"I think I saw her heading down to the dungeons," Hermione noted. "Who knows why."

Briskly Harry nodded, and went off in search of Ginny.

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Harry passed by the Potions room, and saw the capricious sixth year Gryffindor known as some odd Eastern Euro name since Sunday.

"Hi, Drucilla," he said, taking a quick look about.

"Celestine," she interjected. "I changed this morning. Drucilla just sounds so dark. It was giving me bad chi."

"Do you have detention?" he questioned.

She nodded glumly. "Snape called me by," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "you know, _the name_, and I was just trying to explain that that wasn't my name anymore, and he looked dreadfully irritated, and said in that really sinister tone that I was being disrespectful. I was just trying to straighten things out, you know?"

"Right," Harry said, glancing around a bit more. "Listen, have you seen Ginny?"

"Indeed I have," she said brightly, happily pouncing on a new subject. "Truth be told, she was skulking about down here, looking quite odd, so of course I hid. She rapped thrice- wait, maybe it was twice." She thought about this for a bit. "No- no, it was definitely thrice. Anyhow, she banged on an odd spot of wall down the hall a wee ways, and the wall cracked open. She went in, so naturally, I stuck a Chocolate Frog in the entrance to investigate later. I thought I heard Snape coming, so I rushed back here."

"Thanks," he said, beginning to scan the hall for the Chocolate Frog.

He spotted it beyond a couple doorways, and quickly peeked in. "Gin," he began to say, but the sound died in his throat.

The first shock was that she was definitely not clothed.

The second, and much larger, was that a decidedly naked Draco Malfoy was on top of her.

The third, and largest of all, was that Ginny did not seem to be minding these two facts in the slightest.

His draw dropped, and he blinked to see if he was hallucinating.

He wasn't.

He backed away from the opening and the Chocolate Frog slipped out of place. "My god," he said, stunned.

"What?" Celestine called anxiously from down by the Potions room. "Tell me!"

He ignored her, and went back to the Gryffindor commons to sort out the scene.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Ginny walked back to Gryffindor Tower, delightfully sated. "Sorrel wood," she said, gliding into the commons with a grin stretched from ear to ear.

Harry was waiting.

"Didn't know you were so chummy with Malfoy, Gin," Harry said in a hard voice.

"I'm not," she replied, shrugging.

His eyes narrowed. "You don't have to lie to me. I saw you two, and you were starkers and going at it like rabbits."

"You caught us on a good day," she said blandly. "Most of the time we can't even bother to get our clothes off."

"God, Ginny, what's gotten into you?"

"Funny how you're concerned about my sex life," she said sweetly, "considering how fervently you rejected the possibility of being a part of it."

"Is this for revenge, then? Are you punishing me?"

"Contrary to popular belief," she said, rolling her eyes, "the world does not revolve around you."

"Then what the hell is it for, Ginny?" he countered, quiet rage filling his voice. "It's Malfoy! That's something you don't mess around with! What am I supposed to tell Ron?"

"You don't," she snapped. "Because it's none of his business. And for that matter, none of yours. 'What I choose to do is of no concern to you, and your friends. Cos it's me, and _my_ life.'"

"So I'm supposed to just not tell my best friend that his baby sister is messing around with our common enemy?"

She tilted her head in consideration. "Yep, that sums it up quite nicely."

And with that, she walked off.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Ginny propped her face up on her elbows and focused on her book.

A knock came at the door.

"Ginny?" Hermione said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She sighed and closed the volume. Harry had blabbed. Sneaky rat.

"Come in," she said. She surveyed the dorm, but everyone was either at the pitch or in the commons. 

"I talked to Harry," Hermione said slowly, taking a seat next to her. "And we agreed maybe he wasn't the best person to talk to you."

"You make it sound like I have a disease," she said irritably. "I don't. I'm having sex. Get over it."

Her friend heaved a large sigh. "Are you sacrificing your dignity for sex, then?"

"Of course not," Ginny replied with a cheeky grin. "For _great_ sex."

"Ginny," Hermione said patiently, "You're more than that, and you know it. _He doesn't love you._"

"He doesn't need to," Ginny retorted. "It's mindless sex, for jovesakes."

Hermione rose and glanced at her. "But does it have to be heartless as well?"

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Ginny stared at the ceiling all night.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe she was too young to have lost her dreams of romance, too young to live for pleasure and not for love. But weren't the ideals of love those that always broke hearts? She knew exactly what she was getting from Draco. There were no doubts. Feelings had little place among them. They had sex, and that was that.

And yet, she felt empty.

"I feel empty," she said aloud.

"Do you?" chirped Celestine. "I've got some biscuits here, want some?"

Ginny sent her a withering look through the darkness. "Not that kind of empty. Why are you still awake?"

"Thinking of new names," Celestine informed, giving her a biscuit anyway. "How about you?"

_What the hell, might as well go for it._ "Wondering if my shallow relationship with Draco Malfoy makes me a shallow person."

"Draco Malfoy?" Celestine repeated. Ginny could just imagine her ears perking up. "How is he?"

"Fantastic," Ginny confessed.

"Wo-_ow_," she said with a jealous twinge in her voice. "You're a lucky bird. So what's the problem?"

"I don't know. You ever think about that whole happily ever after bit?"

"Ah, well, sometimes. But if my Prince has teeth like most of our royals, I'd stick with good sex, thank you."

Ginny cracked a small grin. "That's not exactly what I was looking to hear. I'm serious. Pink house, white picket fence, the whole schmear?"

"Two-point-five kids and a nanny," said Celestine dreamily. "And a husband who's madly in love with me."

"Yeah." Ginny cleared her throat. "I think I want that."

"And you think that being in a superficial relationship would detract from you search for Prince Charming."

Ginny turned over in surprise. "How did you know that?"

Celestine made a dismissive noise. "It doesn't matter. But as long as you have these niggling thoughts in the back of your mind, you're not going to be satisfied with what you've got any longer."

"Maybe I should break it off."

She thought perhaps Celestine had nothing to say to that, and the room was comfortably quiet. That was, until Celestine made a noise and said, "Can I have him?"

Ginny hurled the biscuit at her. "No!"

"Just asking," she said meekly.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

"What's going on?" Draco asked. "Looking for an advance on this weekend?"

Ginny sat in the once disputed chair in the library.

"There's not going to be a weekend."

His eyes clouded with confusion. "You're not taking that divination business to heart, are you? It's really utter bull."

"No," she said firmly, "I'm not going to be with you this weekend."

"Next weekend, then?"

"No," she said. "Not again."

"Ever?"

"Never." She fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, but continued. "It was fun while it lasted, I guess. But I'm not going to be a fling. Don't make that face at me. You're not hurting. You're irritated that you'll have to find someone else who'll share your bed on a regular basis, but it's not as if there's a shortage of willing girls."

"But I want you," he said stubbornly.

"You can't have me," she said as if she were talking to a child.

"No one denies me," he said, but his words were only a shadow of what they had been.

"Grow up, Malfoy. It's not a game. And I'm done."

And that was that. It ended as quickly as it had begun. 

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

Draco slumped on his davenport.

"She snubbed me," he said in utter amazement.

"It's okay, sugar," Pansy said, patting his tummy. "I'm here for you."

"No offense, Pansy," he said, "but you're not exactly known for the exclusivity of your company."

"None taken," she said brightly. "In fact it's kind of flattering. But really, you need to stop looking like you feel miserable. It's terrible with your complexion."

"But I_ am _miserable," he protested.

"Pretend that you're not, dear," she said critically. "Makes your skin look quite wan."

"She snubbed me," he said again, dumfounded.

"It was just sex," Pansy said disdainfully. She pinched his cheek with great affection. "You don't usually get this upset, sugar."

"I don't usually get upset at all. _I_ do the dumping," he said.

"Well, that's a good thing, because you definitely do not look your most attractive like this."

He made another face.

"It was just sex, right?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it was something more."

"More than sex?" She looked bemused.

"I think maybe it is." He looked at his watch, and headed for the door. "Gryffindor is having Quidditch practice. She's bound to be there."

"Are you going to seduce her again?" she called after him.

"Not quite," he yelled back.

Pansy considered his hasty exit and shook her head. "Definitely not up to par," she confided in the cushion.

---------------~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~---------------

"I'm glad you're coming with us again, Gin," Ron grinned.

Hermione had saved them both seats in the stands. They went up to join her. "Yeah, me too," Ginny said, forcing a smile.

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said, taking her hand and sitting down.

Ginny sat down next to them, and the smile became real.

It was peaceful and wonderful.

And then, all of a sudden, it wasn't.

Draco Malfoy came barreling through the pitch, leaving players cursing "Damn Malfoy" and "Slytherin!" alike.

"Ginny!" he shouted.

She pretended to ignore him.

"Ginny!"

She stood up, her hands bolted in fists at her sides. "What the hell do you want, Malfoy? It's _over_."

"What's over?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Don't ask," she advised.

"Did you ever stop to think," he said, only slightly out of breath, "that maybe it could be something more?"

"It was clear that you didn't want it to be," she said frigidly. "What we had was confined to the bed."

"Bed?" Ron said in a panicked tone.

A pained look came over his face. "Maybe it wasn't," he said. "Maybe... maybe I love you."

Ginny was just frozen.

For a full minute, she just stood there.

Draco held his breath.

Then, her eyes brimmed with tears.

"You asshole," she said, crying, running down to where he stood. "You complete asshole."

His face fell. She was going to slap him, wasn't she?

Then she flung her arms around him.

"You asshole," she cried, tears pouring down her face, dripping on him as well in their tight embrace, "You just told me you loved me, you needn't look as if you have indigestion."

He fastened his arms around her, and a hopeful look drew across his features. "Maybe you love me too?"

"Of course I love you," she said, sniffling. She lifted her head, blinked out the last of her tears, and he kissed her.

"Someone explain this to me," Ron said, bewildered.

"Maybe it's best that we just accept that this _is_," Hermione said, clapping his back.

[fin]  
[more a/n: ahhhh. nice, eh? I apoligize to Apopilis who didn't like the fact that they lived happily ever after, but I couldn't bear for them not to be, especially after giving them the shaft in Entropy. Well, up next, I'll be writing a short (ah, 15-20k or so) fic- the last of the Merck Sindex- with a Ginny pairing I haven't used yet. Gasp, I know. Anyhow... until then, pwease review, and food for thought: how come everyone always drools over Draco in leather pants? I think Draco in *no* pants is much, much better. ;)]


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